Secret: The most fatal weapon of the mankind. But careful, for it depends on whether you're capable of wielding it. Taranya Chauhan never was. She wasn't ready for the world awaiting her, neither for the secrets it held. But when she was shoved headfirst in it, she knew she had to swim up to not drown. Now it's a matter of time before she finds out who's pulling her underwater and who's helping her on the surface. *Content and Trigger warning: This book contains past references to abuse and child molestation.

A little girl in a pink, cloud-soft frock once wandered into a world that should have warned her away. She found them at the edge of a dying playground. Two identical boys, caked in mud, standing too still for children their age. Their eyes followed her long before she spoke. "Why are you both sad?" she asked, her voice light and untouched by caution. They smiled. "Because we are dirty," one said. "And no one wants to play with us," the other added. It should have been a simple answer. It wasn't. She frowned, as if the world had made a small, correctable mistake, and took their hands without hesitation. That was the first choice. The smallest one. The one that mattered most. By the time they reached the park, the air felt different. It was quiet and heavier than anything, as though something unseen had drawn closer just to listen. "Let's play," she said brightly, tossing a ball into the space between them. But there were only three of them. And she refused to leave either side. So she ran back and forth, laughter breaking into breathless gasps, small shoes scuffing against the dirt as she tried to belong everywhere at once. With him. With him. Never choosing. Never stopping. Until the boys stopped smiling. Until they simply watched. "You'll get tired," one of them said softly. "You can't play both sides forever," the other murmured. But she only grinned, flushed and stubborn, her voice trembling with a promise she did not understand. "I can. And I will play with both of you." That was the second choice. Years later, when the bodies began to surface, when whispers of manipulation, obsession, and something far darker crept into every room she entered, no one thought to trace it back to a sunlit afternoon and a game that never really ended. But some games don't stop. They wait. And the most dangerous players are the ones who were never taught to choose.